


Secrets in the Dark

by kearlyn



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Aaron Davis Lives, Character Death Fix, Fix-It, Gen, Identity Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2019-10-22 07:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17658386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kearlyn/pseuds/kearlyn
Summary: Jefferson doesn't expect to find the new Spiderman creeping into his brother's hospital room.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm a sucker for fix-it fic...

It’s late by the time by the time Jefferson finally makes it back to the hospital. The hallways are dark in deference to the sleeping patients, minimal lighting softening the otherwise stark interior. It’s well past visiting hours, but Jefferson’s status as police officer and, more importantly, husband to Rio, gets him past security. He could have waited until morning, but after the bizarre events of the last days he needs to know that Aaron is still okay, that he hasn’t lost his brother to a set of circumstances he doesn’t yet understand.

That he doesn’t want to understand, because once he does, he fears it might truly be end of their relationship.

It was easier when he could blame it on Spiderman, comfortable in the notion of a vigilante finally gone too far.

At this time of night and after surviving both a bullet to the back and the major surgery it took to repair the damage, Jefferson expects his brother to be asleep, but the soft light of a bedside lamp still spills into the hallway from Aaron’s room. 

He would have preferred if Aaron was unconscious.

He wants to see his brother, but after the mess of the earthquake and the collider and Fisk and meeting the new tiny Spiderman and having everything he thought he believed about vigilante superheroes dumped on its head, Jefferson doesn’t have the energy to face the truth about his brother that he can no longer ignore.

Aaron is the Prowler.

Aaron is a villain and it almost got him killed.

He takes a deep breath and steps towards the doorway, but freezes, still hidden in the shadows of the darkened hallway.

Aaron is propped up in bed, eyes closed, looking weaker than Jefferson has ever seen him, even if the soft light of the bedside lamp lends artificial colour to his skin.

That’s not what freezes Jefferson in his tracks.

It’s the tiny figure in black and red slipping in through Aaron’s window.

Spiderman.

Jefferson tenses and his hand drifts down towards his gun. His gut twists. He can’t hate Spiderman, not anymore, but he can’t let the city’s hero take out his brother. The old Spiderman wasn’t one for killing, but Jefferson doesn’t know anything about this new one. 

(Except that he’s young. Painfully young. It’s another thing Jefferson isn’t ready to think about.)

He doesn’t get a chance to do anything more than shift his weight when he sees Aaron’s eyes open and a smile cross his brother’s lips.

“Hey kid,” Aaron says.

And Jefferson doesn’t get time to wonder at the casualness of that address because Spiderman is  _ pushing up his mask _ and underneath—

“Hey Uncle Aaron.”

It’s Miles. Oh God, it’s Miles.

The new Spiderman, the tiny figure Jefferson had seen almost get pulverized by Fisk, is  _ Miles _ .

He can’t feel his limbs and he might be hyperventilating. He doesn’t know how he stays on his feet.

_ At least I know why he wasn’t answering his phone _ , he thinks hysterically.

“—n’t sure you were coming tonight,” Aaron is saying when Jefferson drags himself back to awareness.

“Of course I came!” Miles says.

And Jefferson might still be reeling from the revelation of just what his son is apparently getting up to, but he can still see that there’s something off, something tense about the way Miles is holding his shoulders. About the way he stands carefully only a foot away from the window, as if the wrong move will send him launching straight back into the night.

(And really, now that he knows it’s Miles under the mask, he can’t believe he didn’t see it earlier.  _ Everything _ about the new Spiderman  _ screams _ Miles, and Jefferson learned to read his son a long time ago. Or, he thought he had.)

“What’s up kid?” Aaron asks.

Milse slumps. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Jefferson doesn’t understand but apparently Aaron does. He sighs.

“Hey now,” he says. “Come here.”

And Miles goes, perching gently on the edge of Aaron’s bed and letting his uncle fold him into a hug.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Aaron. I’m sorry!” His shoulders shake and Aaron smooths a hand down his back.

Jefferson feels a visceral sense of… something… at the scene, something dark cutting through the roiling confusion.

Miles has always been close to his uncle and Jefferson had always been happy, if wary, about it. He didn’t want to deny Miles the chance to know Aaron, even if Aaron had never made the same changes to his relationship with the law that Jefferson had. He’d been  _ happy  _ (he’d told himself) that Miles had another person to confide in. But he’d always felt that Aaron understood something about Miles that Jefferson never would, and it shouldn’t bother him but it does.

“It’s all my fault,” Miles says.

Aaron sighs and gently pushes Miles upright so he can look him in the eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” There’s a gentleness in his voice that Jefferson hasn’t heard from his brother in years.

Miles is already shaking his head before half the words are out.

“You got shot because of me!”

Jefferson can see his son’s shoulders shake and can hear the way his voice cracks with guilt. He doesn’t understand what they’re talking about, though the words send a chill down his spine, but all he wants to do is scoop Miles into his arms and shield him from whatever is hurting him.

Aaron is the one shaking his head now.

“Miles, no,” he says, then shushes Miles when he opens his mouth to object.

“Listen to me. I got shot because I wouldn’t kill you.”

A lead weight drops in Jefferson’s gut. He wants to believe Aaron is exaggerating but his brother is deadly serious. Just what the  _ hell _ has been going on that he doesn’t know about?

How close had he come to losing Miles without ever knowing?

“If I wasn’t Spiderman—” Miles starts.

“If I wasn’t Prowler,” Aaron interrupts gently. “Pretty sure that happened long before you got freaky spider skills.”

Miles ducks his head. Jefferson can only see part of his son’s face, but he can tell that the corners of Miles’ mouth are lifting in a reluctant smile.

“When did  _ that _ happen anyway?” Aaron asks.

Miles fidgets and Jefferson leans closer. That’s a question he wants an answer to as well.

“In the tunnel,” Miles says. “Under the collider.”

Aaron sighs. “When we went painting?”

Miles nods and Jefferson wants to sigh to himself.

_ Really? _ , he thinks. He has enough trouble with Miles’ street art on a regular day. He doesn’t need Aaron encouraging his son’s delinquency.

But apparently he now also has to worry about Miles being a  _ superhero _ and Aaron being some kind of  _ supervillain _ so…

He’d really like a quiet room and an hour to himself right now.

Unfortunately, he has to lurk in hallways to find out what’s going on in his family.

“I’m pretty sure that means it’s my fault you’re Spiderman too,” Aaron says. 

“But if I hadn’t—”

“Miles, I’m an adult. I made these choices a long time ago and they’re my responsibility to bear. Not yours. I chose to disobey Fisk. Because, if it came down to my life or yours, I’d go with yours every time.”

Miles ducks his head and Aaron wraps him in another embrace.

“What do we do now?” Miles asks after a long moment where Jefferson tries to reconcile Aaron apparently saving Miles life but also nearly killing him.

He can’t. He’s going to need some long talks with Rio to find a way to handle this without destroying his relationship with Miles or Aaron.

(Assuming, a part of him whispers, he still wants a relationship with someone who threatened his son.)

He tucks the thoughts away along with the rest of the weirdness of the last three days, and focuses back on the hospital room.

Aaron grins. “Well since I’m pretty sure it’s a school night, you get your butt back to Visions.”

Miles groans. “Uncle Aaaarooon. I’m serious.”

“So am I. Don’t you have homework or something.”

Miles sighs and fidgets. “I guess.”

Aaron raises an eyebrow and Jefferson recognizes the silent  _ See I’m right and you’re going to do what I say  _ expression from long experience.

“Then get going,” Aaron says. “I hear you’ve gotten in enough trouble for tonight.”

“You heard about that?” Miles has gone tense again, but there’s both trepidation and a reluctant pride in his voice.

“Saw the news,” Aaron says, still gentle and lightly teasing. “I guess you saved the day.”

Miles ducks his head.

“I guess.”

He glances back up.

“Fisk got arrested,” he says, “so you’ll be okay now, right?”

“Right,” Aaron says, but Jefferson can see the swiftly hidden grimace on his face.

He feels the same sinking in his own heart. Fisk’s network is big. Between his wealth and the power he holds both among the criminal underworld and the city’s elite, Jefferson isn’t sure they’re going to be able to hold Fisk.

And it seems like Aaron knows it too.

It sets a new weight of worry in Jefferson’s gut. If Fisk was, from what he’s gleaned from Miles and Aaron’s conversation, apparently willing to shoot Aaron in broad daylight in public, his brother isn’t out of danger just because he survived the bullet.

_ More problems for another day _ , Jefferson tells himself resolutely.

“Are your spider friends still around?” Aaron asks.

Jefferson can hear it for the desperate change of topic it is.

Miles shakes his head.

“I got them home before I destroyed the collider,” he says.

And Jefferson feels a swell of pride.  _ His son _ did that.

His son saved lives of what sounds like the Spider-people of other universes, then saved all of New York.

He’s beginning to understand why so many people love Spiderman.

“Good,” Aaron says. “You did good.”

Miles ducks his head. “Thanks,” he says softly.

Aaron grins. “Now stop delaying and get back to that school of yours.”

Miles hops off the bed, but hesitates.

“Are you going to get arrested?” he asks, head bowed and twisting his fingers together.

Aaron sighs. “I don’t know.”

Miles’ head comes up, but Aaron continues before he can say anything.

“I don’t know, Miles. That’s a conversation for your dad. And probably the police.” He puts on a smile that even Miles must know is faked. “But that’s another problem that’s not yours to worry about.”

Jefferson can see the mutinous set of Mile’s chin from all the way out in the hall and expects to find his son poking his nose in the business of the Prowler’s fate no matter how Aaron and Jefferson try to keep him out.

That’s going to be fun.

“Go home, Miles,” Aaron says gently. “There’s nothing you can do about it tonight.”

Miles nodes slowly, but Jefferson can see reluctance in the tense line of his shoulders. He darts back in to give Aaron another hug.

“Good night Uncle Aaron.”

“Good night kid.”

Miles is halfway out the window when Aaron calls him back.

“Hey kid.” 

Miles pauses and glances back.

“Are you going to tell your parents? About being Spiderman?”

Jefferson would swear, for just a moment, that Aaron’s eyes flick to his form hidden in the hallway shadows. Jefferson’s breath catches and he has to restrain himself from leaning in to hear the answer.

Miles nods. “Of course,” he says and Jefferson feels like something has slammed the air out of his chest. 

“I have enough stress in my life without trying to hide a superhero secret identity. Plus, it’s dad. He’d figure it out. Or mom would.” Miles hesitates. Grins. “I almost want to wait and see who figures it out first, but I’m pretty sure I would end up grounded for all eternity, so that’s out.”

Aaron shakes his head.

“Get going you little monster,” he says.

Miles grins, waves, and pulls the mask down over his face. A brief whoosh of air is the only sound he makes as he disappears through the window.

Jefferson is still trying to process the weight of Miles’ trust when Aaron voice drifts out of the room.

“Stop hiding in the hallway, little brother. It makes you look like a criminal and we don’t need any more of those in the family.”

Jefferson’s head snaps up and he meets Aaron’s gaze.

His brother tips his head silently to the chair next to his bed, a smirk on his lips.

And Jefferson stumbles into the room.

It’s time to get some answers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not totally happy with this chapter, but it's been sitting mostly complete in my drafts for a while and I wanted to finish up this fic.

Jefferson doesn’t know which question to ask first. It’s a problem he hasn’t had since his earliest days on the police force. Years of experience had given him the calm needed to interrogate witnesses and suspects alike without tripping over his questions or missing necessary information.

But he’s never had to—never  _ wanted _ to—apply those skills to his own family.

Even when he and Aaron’s relationship was at its worst, Jefferson never considered treating his brother like a suspect. 

_ Maybe he should have _ , he thinks.

He’s floundering and when his brother raises a challenging eyebrow, Jefferson knows that Aaron can see his struggle like it was written on his forehead.

He’s abruptly reminded that one of the reasons he and Aaron’s relationship had broken down was that Aaron had  _ always _ seen clearer than Jefferson. Had always been able to read Jefferson more clearly than Jefferson was comfortable with (and more clearly than Jefferson could read Aaron).

Apparently, years of estrangement, a new career as a costumed villain, and a bullet to the back hadn’t changed that.

Jefferson lets himself be ruefully amused and throws aside his attempts at any kind of cool professionalism.

“What the hell, Aaron?” he says.

Let  _ Aaron _ figure out where to start with this mess.

Instead, all Aaron does is laugh. Jefferson feels his own lips twitch in response. There's little about the past few days that's worth laughing about, but it's better than crying or screaming or panicking, which are also things Jefferson kind of wants to do.

“It's been a hell of a few days,” Aaron says finally. “Where do you want to start?”

And there's a dozen questions Jefferson wants to ask, but only one thing he  _ needs  _ to know.

“You almost killed Miles,” he says.

He wants Aaron to deny it. Despite what his brother and his son discussed, despite what he knows about the Prowler, he wants Aaron to tell him that Miles wasn't really in danger, that Jefferson hadn't almost lost his son at the hands of his brother. To offer an explanation that would allay the dark fears gnawing at him.

“Yeah, I almost killed Miles. I  _ tried  _ to kill Miles,” Aaron says. “Twice.”

Aaron has never been good at giving Jefferson anything but the hard truth. It's why they don't talk so much anymore.

The answer leaves a tight roil in the pit of Jefferson’s stomach.  _ Twice _ . He almost lost Miles  _ twice _ .

The follow-up question sticks in the back of his throat.  _ Did you know? Did you know it was Miles when you tried to kill him? _

He can’t force the words past the tightness in his throat.

But Aaron can still read him extraordinarily well.

“No,” he says, “I didn’t know it was Miles. My job was to kill a potential witness. Then to kill the new Spiderman. I didn’t know they were both Miles.”

Aaron could be lying. God knows he’s always been able to fool Jefferson, apparently including  _ years _ spent as a costumed villain. Jefferson has never  _ really _ been able to tell when his brother was telling the truth and when he wasn’t.

Aaron could be lying.

Jefferson chooses to believe he isn’t.

“When did you find out?” he asks.

“Right before I got shot,” Aaron says. He hesitates, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “I think it was the only card Miles had left to play.”

Jefferson doesn’t know how many more of these hits he can take. To know that Miles was in a position where his only choice was to reveal himself to a masked villain and  _ hope _ a familial connection was enough...

“How close was it?” He doesn’t want to know the answer. Has to know the answer.

“Too close.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jefferson whispers and presses a shaking hand over his face.  _ Too close _ .

A hand presses against his shoulder.

“Miles is fine,” Aaron says.

Jefferson drops his hand and meets his brother’s eyes.

“Are you sure?”

He doesn’t know what kind of fight Aaron and Miles had, but he saw the beat-down in the collider. How could Miles possibly be okay after that?

Aaron nods.

“I’ve been fighting Spiderman long enough to know that wherever those powers come from, they make you damn hard to kill.”

“Until Peter Parker.”

Aaron grimaces. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Until Parker.”

They share a moment of silence for the last, lost Spiderman, and Jefferson feels the irony in it. Two estranged brothers, on opposite sides of the law, connecting over a dead man neither of them had liked.

It’s maybe not the most auspicious omen for their future. Or Miles’.

“What happened, Aaron?” Jefferson asks. “With Miles, with you, being the Prowler, this whole past week. What happened?”

Aaron sighs and his face grows serious, lines of tension appearing around his mouth and eyes.

“I’m not going to answer that,” he says and holds up a hand when Jefferson goes to protest. “I have reasons.”

Jefferson sits back and raises an eyebrow, ignoring how easy it is to fall back into the role of petulant little brother.

Aaron quirks a smile at him, but it fades quickly.

“First,” he says, “are you asking as my brother or as Officer Davis?”

Jefferson opens his mouth to reply and stops.

Aaron nods.

“Exactly,” he says. “Both are owed an answer, but, well… Talking to one of them has consequences. Serious ones.”

Jefferson swallows and looks away. He’s not ashamed to be a police officer, but he’s never felt more keenly the divide it puts between him and his family.

A hand on his arm draws his attention back to Aaron.

“I am going to tell you,” he says. “Both the officer and my brother. But… Can I have a little time? Before I have to be the Prowler confessing to Officer Davis?”

Jefferson shouldn’t allow it. It’s not regulations. But nothing about the past week has been anything close to regulations and no matter what else they are, they’re still family.

“We’re going to have to figure out a way to keep you safe from Fisk, and right now anonymity is your best defense,” he says finally. “We’ll hold off on putting your name and the Prowler’s together in the system until we’ve worked out a plan.”

Because they might be family, but Jefferson still has a job to do.

Aaron nods, hesitates, then says, “There’s another reason.”

Jefferson gestures for Aaron to continue.

“It’s about Miles,” Aaron says. “I know you won’t like it, but I think you should wait until Miles is ready to tell you. Hear it from him first.”

Aaron’s right. Jefferson absolutely doesn’t like it.

It’s his  _ son _ and he needs to  _ know _ . Sorting out the bureaucracy of keeping Aaron safe might only take a few days. Waiting on Miles to confess to him and Rio might take much longer, even though he’s already heard MIles say that he’ll tell them.

So Jefferson definitely hates it.

And he can definitely see why Aaron would suggest it, beyond any kind of desire to delay his own confession. He knows from years of police work that there’s something about hearing a story fresh, without the bias of existing information, something that will help him  _ listen _ to Miles.

Miles deserves that kind of attention.

“You’re right,” Jefferson says. “I don’t like it. But it’s the best thing to do.”

Aaron lets out a breath and relaxes against his pillows, tension Jefferson hadn’t even seen seeping out of his shoulders.

“Good,” he says. “Okay. Good.”

He shuts his eyes for a moment and Jefferson can see the struggle to open them again. He’s abruptly reminded that his brother nearly died today and is only a few hours out of surgery.

Jefferson should leave him to rest.

There’s only one more question he has to ask.

“Why’d you ask him if he was going to tell us?” Jefferson asks. “You already seem convinced that he would.”

Aaron opens his eyes and shakes his head. “I didn’t,” he says. “I already knew the answer. I just needed  _ you  _ to hear it.”

Jefferson presses. “ _ Why? _ ”

Aaron sighs. “Miles is going to need someone,” he says, “and I don’t think it’s a good idea for it to be me. For obvious reasons.” He looks away, shoulders tense, and Jefferson is reminded that for all their comradery, his brother had tried to kill his son less than a day ago.

Aaron’s gaze pierces Jefferson and holds him frozen in place. “I needed you to know so you could sort out your own shit and be there to help Miles deal with his.”

And there’s nothing Jefferson can say to that.

The only thing he and Aaron have agreed on in years—decades—is that Miles has to come first.

Jefferson doesn’t try for words. He nods, and sees the last bit of tension seep out of Aaron’s shoulders.

There’s more to say, years of distance and unspoken words cracking under the pressure of these new revelations, but Jefferson sits in silence until Aaron drifts off, then dims the light.

He texts Rio and settles back into the chair, ready to keep watch through the long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang with me on Tumblr @ thekearlyn.tumblr.com!
> 
> EDIT: 24 Aug - Fixed the consistency errors!


End file.
